Everyone loves an Italian grandmother, right? She showers you with love and attention. She slips you money as you're headed out the door so you can "buy yourself a treat," even though you're now 30 years old, have a job, and can buy your own treats, and she encourages you to eat your weight in macaroni at Sunday dinners because "you're looking thin." That's my grandma to a T. She practically raised me growing up. We're super-close, and I love her to pieces. That said, I believe she fears I'm slowly killing her first great-grandchild with my lax parenting skills.

My grandma is a pupil of the old school. She believes babies should be very warm, very covered, very nourished, and very sheltered. So, for your reading pleasure, I present to you

Grandma's Laundry List of Child-Rearing Practices, Most of Which I'm Not Following:

1.) Babies should wear no less than five layers of clothing at all times. They should wear only sleepers for the first six months of their lives. No actual clothing. At all. Because it makes them uncomfortable. I have left Isabella with her while I've gone out for a run or to the store and upon my return, have found the babe, whom I left clad in a shirt and pants, decked out in one of the 10 or so sleepers she owns. When I ask grandma what happened, she's said Ella has peed or pooped on the pants, and she needed to change her. Inspection of aforementioned garments show no evidence of any such bodily fluid.

2.) Babies hands should be covered at all times because their hands are freezing. Also, they are likely to poke out an eye since they're constantly swiping at their faces. My grandma tells Isabella all the time, "Your mommy needs to cover your hands! They're so cold." Paranoid that I was slowly giving my baby frost bite, I looked up "cold hands" in my trusty "What To Expect The First Year" and found that babies' hands and feet are always cold because they direct most of their blood flow to their internal organs at the center of their body. So, just because their hands are cold, doesn't mean they are cold all over. Phew! And her eyeballs? Still safely lodged in her skull, thank you very much.

3.) Babies should be fed formula, not breastmilk, because that's what she fed all five of her kids, including my mother. Now, to be fair, she hasn't come right out and said this to me. But she'll make comments like, "I wonder if she's really satisfied after you're through nursing her?" and "Maybe you should give her a bottle of formula so you know how much she's eating." This one bugs me the most, because breastfeeding is a lot of work and I'm the only one capable of doing it for Ella. And having unsupportive family members (grandma isn't the only one) tell me I should be supplementing or worse yet, not breastfeeding at all irks me. It's a completely personal choice, but breastmilk really is what's best for babies. Plus, she's pooping, peeing, and gaining weight (9 pounds, 10 ounces as of last week!), so I know my baby isn't growing up to look like an Olsen twin.

4.) Babies nails shouldn't be clipped until they are at least two years old. The first time I cut Ella's nails, I nicked her slightly under one nail with the infant clippers. I felt horrible about it. But my grandma I think, felt worse. The day after this incident occured, my great aunt brought over a baby nail clipping kit that contained a magnifying glass. Word travels fast in my family, you see.

5.) Babies shouldn't be taken out anywhere in public until they're old enough to walk there themselves because the germs! They are EVERYWHERE! And they WILL kill her. We started taking Ella out when she was about six weeks old. I take her to church, the store, restaurants, etc. I won't take her to hospitals and nursing homes because those places really are hotbeds of disease, but pretty much everywhere else is fair game. Grandma (and my mom) think this is assinine. Apparently, I'm supposed to stay holed up in my house with her until she's 11, and I've forgotten what the outside world looks like.

Grandma and I are generations apart, and I know much has changed since she was raising her kids, my mom and my aunts and uncles. And really, much has changed since I was a baby as well. And grandma really does have a PhD in childcare. If I ever had a question about something Isabella was doing, I'm certain grandma would have the answer (of course, whether it was the right answer is up for debate). And she's fantastic with the little bean, who loves her great-grandma to pieces and sleeps calmly in her arms for hours.

But there's a wee little part of me that goes a little off the deep end each time I hear that I'm doing something wrong in the motherhood department. I know that where babies are concerned, everyone's an expert, and since Ella's my first, I'm certainly not. But I think I'm doing a fairly good job. I mean, I've managed to keep her alive for 10 weeks now. That's gotta count for something, right?